


No One Could Have Predicted This

by LienidQueen



Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: Caught, Comedy, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I love this girl gang, Jerin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-01-12 09:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LienidQueen/pseuds/LienidQueen
Summary: Erin really had no idea how she got into this situation. To be perfectly honest, this was not the first time she’d ended up in a position she would not have predicted, and couldn’t explain. She practically lived her life having no idea how she got where she was. Christ, James’ first day at their school resulted in a dead nun and James pissing in a bin. No one could have predicted that. If she were a bit more self-aware, Erin would probably know that her current predicament was at least seventy percent her own fault. But Erin Quinn was not the kind of girl to live in reality.--Some sweet, dumb Jerin.





	1. A Class New Way to Wear the Uniform

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just a wee American with a lot of feelings about Derry Girls. Be kind <3

“Oi! Erin, where’re you?”

Thump.  _ Shit shit shit. _

***

Erin really had no idea how she got into this situation. To be perfectly honest, this was not the first time she’d ended up in a position she would not have predicted, and couldn’t explain. She practically lived her life having no idea how she got where she was. Christ, James’ first day at their school resulted in a dead nun and James pissing in a bin. No one could have predicted that.

If she were a bit more self-aware, Erin would probably know that her current predicament was at least seventy percent her own fault. But Erin Quinn was not the kind of girl to live in reality.

Which is how she ended up here. Straddling James Macguire on her couch, fingers tangled in his soft curls, his hands up her school shirt, snogging him madly. It was pretty nice, really. For being someone who greater Derry has largely ostracized, he didn’t seem unpracticed. Sure, she had been the one to climb onto his lap, but he started it, grabbing full hold of the side of her face so their lips could collide head-on. In fact, his mouth had just started to trail down to the side of her neck in a way that made her alternate between giggling and sighing when the Quinn’s front door burst open and their three friends arrived.

Michelle led the pack, as she frequently did, traipsing in as if she owned the place. Her brash voice carried around the corner to the couch and, alarmed, Erin squeaked and tried to clamber off James. Maybe if she wasn’t found with James’ hands on her tits, they would look less guilty. She got stuck though, and ended up rolling them both off the couch, landing with a loud thump.

“You alright there, Erin?!” Clare careened around the corner with her characteristic shrillness that showed she was clearly worried for Erin’s safety. Michelle and Orla followed, searching for the origin of the noise.

And so Erin Quinn was found by her three best friends on the floor of her own house, having just been snogged senseless by the only person they couldn’t have predicted.

To be fair, Erin didn’t look as guilty as James. She was still wearing all her clothes, with only a loosened tie and some puffy lips to show for her antics. James looked right dazed though, even more than usual. His hair was in disarray, despite his curls, and his shirt was untucked and unbuttoned (both Erin’s fault), showing off his pasty chest with his tie hanging down. If the girls got any closer, Erin was sure they’d see the telling shimmer of her favorite lip gloss on his lips.

“The fuck’s this?” Michelle asked, and both Erin and James flushed, looking down. It was at that moment they realized they were still deeply tangled in one another, her fingers clenched in his collar and his hand halfway up her thigh and under her skirt. They disengaged rather than answer, a dead silence falling over the room.

“Class new way to wear the uniform, James,” Orla piped up. “Tie under the open shirt really suits you.” Erin knew Oral had no idea what she was saying, but she prayed harder than she ever had for Orla to shut her mouth.

“Aren’t you a sharp one, Orla,” Michelle snapped back at Orla, before turning ‘round to Erin. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I--I--I--” stuttered Erin, not sure how to even begin. Everything had just spun out of control, really. One minute they had been watching the telly, the next James had gotten that earnest glimmer in his eye and was pulling her towards him like a magnet. From there it was just a hop, skip, and a leap to climbing onto his lap and lying back on the couch,

“Is this about John Paul?”

“Catch yourself on,” Clare scoffed. “He stood her up to the prom, Michelle.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, Erin has standards. After that eejit didn’t show, there’s no way she would ever even think of--”

“For fuck’s sake, this is Erin we’re talking about,” Michelle countered. “No offense, Erin.”

“I--”

“I mean, shit, you’ve seen the guys that she fancies. David Donnelly wasn’t exactly a ride, but at least he’s better than this dicko.”

“He’s your cousin, Michelle,” Clare squeaked.

“Aye, so he is, but that’s no excuse.”

“I am  _ right here _ ,” James noted quietly, almost too low to be heard. He had located his school sweater and pulled it over the unbuttoned shirt and tie, giving the facade of clothed dignity, though nothing could be done to fix his hair.

“So you are,” Orla agreed, though with what, no one could be sure.

Michelle continued as if there had been no interruption. “I’m just trying to figure out what you were thinking. What was going on in that class head of yours to think, ‘I think I’ll try to ride the wee English fella.’”

“I can hear you, Michelle!” exclaimed James. “I can, in fact, hear you. You take the mick all the time. And as much fun as it is to be mocked while I’m half-dressed, I think I’ll pass.”

With that, James picked up his remaining articles of clothing and headed to the loo. Michelle, Clare, and Orla watched him go. There was the barest moment of silence before all three turned back around to look at Erin.

“Seriously, Erin, what were you thinking?” Clare asked. Erin tried to straighten her clothes but found little success.

“Thinking? She wasn’t thinking. There’s no way a Derry Girl in her right mind would logically think to ride an English fella,” Michelle retorted.

“Shut it, Michelle,” Erin snapped, finally finding her voice. “He’s not some ‘English fella’. He’s right clever--”

“He tried to clean a window with mayonnaise.”

“--and thoughtful and kind. It is so very typical of you to be prejudicial just because he’s not a Derry lad. I met the Campsey lad you went out with last weekend, and he’s not half the guy James is.”

“Ach, you think so?” Michelle laughed. “He’s more of a ride than James.”

“Well, maybe I’m looking for something more mature and intellectual in my relationships, Michelle. He’s dead-on. And I like him.”

With that, Erin stomped up the stairs, for the first time in her life successfully making a dramatic exit.

“That is not good,” Orla mused.   
  



	2. If I Never Did Things Michelle Would Hate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a wee American, be kind friends <3  
> Thanks to Ciara for the notes!

All things being considered, Erin hadn’t intended to start sneaking around behind everyone’s backs with James. It just sort of, happened? They had been sitting in her living room after the President’s visit, Clare having been called home by her Ma, and Michelle and Orla gone off in search of chips. It was just Erin and James, sitting close,  _ but not too close _ on the Quinn couch. In silence. They both tried to break it at once.

“I’m glad you aren’t—”

“I didn’t know how to say goodbye—”

They both stopped, color rising in their cheeks.

“You go,” James offered, looking down at his lap.

“I’m glad you aren’t going back to England,” Erin tried again. “Michelle was right. You belong here. You’re a Derry Girl.”

“Only because I’m a Derry Girl?”

Erin sputtered. “Well, yeah. You belong with us. Clare and Michelle and Orla and—”

“You?” offered James.

“Aye, me too. I’m one of the group, so I am. It’s not as if I --we-- could let you leave.” Erin had never put so fine a point on it, but he was right. The girls would miss him terribly, it’s true, but he also gave their group some softness, some kindness. He smoothed out their Derry-born abrasive qualities. Christ knows Erin needed that.

“I didn’t know how to say goodbye to you.”

Erin snorted. “Wise up, James. You said goodbye to all of us at the President’s speech. I was there.”

At that, finally, James met her gaze. He had the same expression he did the night of the prom when she opened the door to see him standing on her front step, wearing that ridiculously long scarf. Those big dumb eyes and the slight curve of a hopeful smile, telling every thought going through his head.

She finally figured it out— Michelle may be brash, Clare may be anxious, Orla may be self-poessessed, and she may be more awkward than a three-legged duck, but James was…  _ earnest.  _ He never seemed to hide how he was feeling. The way he looked at her right at that moment was so clear.

“I...didn’t know how to say goodbye to… you, Erin,” he tried again, and the virtue of eye contact meant it relayed all the missing information Erin hadn’t gotten before. But before she could possibly process any of that, suddenly his hands had moved from his lap to cup the sides of her face, pulling it to his own.

Erin had been kissed before. A respectable three times, thank you very much. But the most recent was John Paul, pre-boke, so she didn’t have the highest of standards, as far as kisses go. This was… not at all what she was expecting.

Until that very moment she hadn’t realized the possibility of James as someone she could kiss. He was one of the group, a Derry Girl. He existed in a sex-less sphere, outside of Erin’s prospective romance bubble. He was just, you know, James. Sweet and funny and  _ earnest _ James, but the second his lips touched hers everything changed. The whole span of her world narrowed to the hands on her cheeks and the soft lips that had started sucking on her own. She could do this all day. Until she needed to breathe.

At some point while they were snogging Erin had closed her eyes, because as soon as they separated, Erin felt her eyes flutter open in the romantic way she had never experienced before. She had only ever been a spazz with fit lads before, but James was not a fit lad, she supposed. Her eyes fluttered open, and she caught James’ warm gaze staring back.

“Was that okay?” he asked, soft and hesitant. His every molecule seemed to cry out,  _ please, please, please like it. Like me. _

Erin broke out into a huge grin. “Absolutely cracker.”

James returned the smile, and leaned forward to capture her mouth again, when she stopped him.

“What?”

“What are we going to do?”

“What do you mean?” He looked genuinely confused. “More of this, I suppose?”

“No, I mean about the girls. They were right pissed when you were dating Katya.”

James laughed. “I wasn’t  _ dating _ Katya. And  _ you _ were the one who was right pissed when I was with Katya. Michelle couldn’t give less of a fuck.”

“Aye, but they’ll give a fuck it’s me,” Erin insisted. At that, his shining face fell, apparently only now realizing the consequences of their actions. His features twisted, then resolved.

“Yea, but I don’t care. I like you, Erin. I’m not going to stop liking you just because Michelle would hate it. If I never did things Michelle would hate, I’d never do anything.”

Erin glowed under his admission. It was always good to be reminded of how totally class James was. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Aye, okay,” Erin repeated, sneaking another peck from his lips with a grin. “But we can’t tell people just yet. When it’s right, we will. I promise.”

“Brilliant,” James agreed, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

Erin set to doing just that, grabbing hold of his collar and dragging his lips back to hers.

* * *

 

That was that. It just continued like that, for weeks. Before Erin knew it, things had spiraled completely out of control, seeing James nearly every night outside of the group. At first, she was worried about being found out, but the first time he came to her house two weeks later, they had planned an elaborate excuse to explain James’ presence, only to be waved off by Erin’s Ma & Granda Joe.

“James, nice to see you dear,” Mary had greeted him. Ever since he complimented her hat at the funeral, he could do no wrong in Ma Quinn’s book.

“Hello, Mrs. Quinn,” James answered meekly. There was something to be said for congeniality towards the parents of the girl you were seeing, even in secret. Erin was agressively trying to pull him up the stairs and out of her ma’s clutches, but to no avail. “Erin invited me over to work on some readings of--”

“Never you mind, dear,” Ma Quinn cut him off. “You two study hard.”

“You don’t mind him and me going up to my room alone?” Erin asked before she could stop herself. James shot her a panicked glance, unsure why she was prodding at a clear exit, but Erin couldn’t help it. She had spent all that time working on a totally cracker excuse for him to be in her room, alone, and she didn’t even get to use it. It was a shame to waste a perfectly good plan. Pure anxiety overloaded, so she was.

“Wise up, Mary,” her da interjected from the kitchen. “He’s a full lad now.”

“Och, shove off, Gerry,” scoffed Granda Joe, “it’s just the wee English fella. Everyone knows he’s gay.”

“Again, not gay,” James insisted, once again trying to change everyones minds despite better judgement.

“Don’t start,” Erin whispered in his ear, and the two decided to take the win, scampering up the stairs to her bedroom and closing the door behind them.

Once they were alone, having successfully evaded Erin’s family, they both giggled nervously at the other, cheeks coloring.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Erin told him honestly.

“It doesn’t matter how, only that it did,” answered James, taking hold of her hips and dragging her to him.

It had been little over a week, which by most standards wasn’t a long time, but in the world of illicit teen dating was a millenium. So the minute he pulled her flush to his chest, Erin couldn’t help but tangle her fingers into his tangled curls and pull his lips down for a kiss.   
  



	3. You're Not That Irresistible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a wee American. Be kind. Thanks to Ciara :)

As soon as Erin was able to make her dramatic exit up the stairs, she stopped at the landing and listened to the girls scoff at this development.

“What. The fuck,” Michelle said simply.

“I don’t know,” stammered Clare. “They were right there. On the couch.”

“Christ, Clare. I know. We all saw them.”

“But what are we going to do?”

“Do? Fuck all if I know. If Erin wants to ride my weird English cousin, that’s her problem.”

“But, but--” Clare seemed to be having the hardest time processing the new dynamic. If Erin wasn’t familiar with this particular quirk, she would have found it concerning. Since Clare had that reaction at least weekly for one reason or another in Erin’s presence, she wasn’t too worried.

“Michelle!” Orla interrupted suddenly.

“What?”

“If my cousin’s dating your cousin, does that make  _ us _ cousins?”

No one spoke for a moment, and despite how incredibly annoyed Erin was with the lot of them, she had to stifle a giggle. Orla really was the best at breaking tension.

“Fuck off, Orla,” Michelle replied, and Erin could practically see her give Orla a playful shove. “Let’s go to Dennis’. I’m craving some Toffos.”

With that, the trio departed, worries of the moment temporarily forgotten. Erin felt herself let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. If the girls could let it go for Toffos, things could be alright. Eventually. Creeping slowly down the stairs to make sure the coast was clear, she ran straight into someone trying to creep the other way.

“Hi,” James said, with his familiar uncertainty. Despite his proficiency earlier, he now seemed unsure what to do with his hands, wringing them nervously.

“Hi.” What else could she say? He had fixed his shirt and tie, so now you could barely tell what they had been up to. For Erin, though, the image was seared into her brain. She liked that she was the only one who really knew what James looked like when he was kiss-pissed --eyes a little glazed and a stupid grin on his face as if he couldn’t believe his luck. It was similar to the one he had when he looked at her now, only stronger. He was giving her the softest smile and warm expression, despite the clear undercurrent of stress.

“That didn’t exactly go as planned.”

Erin snorted. “No, it did not.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

James sighed. “I just know I shouldn’t have started that. It was my fault.”

“Aye, and you’re the one who made me climb on top of you and take off most of your clothes,” Erin replied sarcastically. “You may be class, but you’re not that irresistible.”

At James’ crestfallen face, she tried again.

“Christ. No. You are. I just meant it’s not your fault. You didn’t put me under a spell. It’s as much my fault as yours.”

James’ hands stopped their anxious movement. Erin took the opportunity, grabbing hold of one and latticing their fingers.

“I’m sorry,” James said softly, taking hold of her other hand.

“Me too,” she told him. “I didn’t mean to get carried away on the couch. It’s just—”

“—I’m irresistible?”

Erin snorted. “Exactly.”

“And we were rudely interrupted in the middle of you showing me as much, weren’t we?”

“Mm-hmm.” She couldn’t help it. For all the shit she gave him and his gangly awkwardness, he  _ was _ irresistible. One look from that dopey smile of his and she was done for. It had only been a few weeks, and already that look of his made her knees go weak and her mouth draw toward his like some kind of magnet. So at his charming grin and teasing reminder, she licked her lips and pressed them to James’, pulling him up the stairs with her in pursuit of her bedroom. A room, thank Christ, with a locking door.

* * *

 

To say that the next morning’s trip to school was tense would be a dramatic understatement. Each joined the group in turn as usual, but the minute Erin and Orla reached the other three, it was clear this would not thaw. Michelle walked in front, snapping her gum and generally not giving a fuck like normal, but she only raised an eyebrow at Erin’s greeting before continuing to walk. Clare’s furrowed brow belied her conflicted feelings to choose a side. In the end she joined Michelle and kept walking, sneaking only cursory looks back at Erin. 

That left Orla to wander between the two pairs. Erin didn’t think that this was Orla refusing to choose a side though, just that she didn’t quite understand that sides were even being drawn.

She gave Orla an encouraging smile in thanks and impulsively took James’ hand. Erin had never done that before --held a lad’s hand-- and she had to admit, it was quite a nice feeling. Her hand felt smaller in his, and in the hills in the morning everything had a foggy chill about it, leaving her with foundered hands and knocking knees. With her hand in his, though, her whole body seemed to flush with comfy warmth. The benefit of everyone knowing about it, despite not approving of it, was that she could hold James’ hand in her own on the walk to school.

Though, Erin remembered, not  _ everyone _ knew, sending her into a proper panic right then.

“Michelle didn’t tell your aunt, did she?” Erin asked James quietly, but clearly not quiet enough, as Michelle responded.

“Orla, could you please tell your cousin that I am many things, but I am not a tell-tale, and what she does with my English cousin is none of my business.”

Orla turned back to Erin dutifully. “Erin, Michelle says that she’s not a tell-tale, and that--”

“Thanks, Orla,” Erin cut her off. “But could you tell Michelle that she’s being a right nag and that I wouldn’t put it past her to tell her ma about me.”

Orla turned again. “Michelle, Erin says that you’re being a right--”

“Aye, I’ve got ears, Orla,” Michelle snapped, turning back to Erin. “And I can’t believe that you’d think I would. I’m raging, so I am, but I wouldn’t tattle.”

“I can’t stand this anymore!” Clare exclaimed, joining the fray. “You two are best mates, and I can’t bear you two fighting for this long. I can’t take it!”

“Watch yourself,” Erin tried, hoping to calm her down, but not able to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “You’ll hyperventilate at this rate. We’ve only been cross twelve hours. That’s nothing. You and I were split for days when you were a lesbian.”

“It’s not ‘were’, Erin. You don’t stop being a lesbian,” Clare huffed.

“You know what I mean. We were mad for longer after the essay contest.”

“Aye, but this time’s tearing me up. I can’t stand it!”

“Well, you’re just gonna have to get used to it, because as long as Erin’s sucking face with my wee cousin, I’ll be cross.”

“I like him, Michelle,” Erin told her, holding up their joined hands as proof. “I’m not going to stop liking him just because you’re pitching a fit. It’s very juvenile. We’re supposed to be more mature than that.”

“More mature? Catch yourself on. If Orla’s Ma started snogging Dennis, you’d have a real problem too, wouldn’t you?”

“That’s because Dennis is a creep,” Erin shot back.

Michelle scoffed. “And who just attended a creep convention?”

Erin didn’t have any proper response. Michelle, believing she’d won, rolled her eyes and turned back around, walking fifteen paces ahead of the rest of the group.

“It’s not a creep convention!” Erin called after her, but Michelle just flipped her off over her shoulder and kept walking.

“I hate it when you all talk about me like I’m not here,” James muttered.

“Shit, sorry,” Erin apologized. “I didn’t mean to, it’s just, she’s so… you know?”

“Aye,” James smiled. “And you like me, right?”

Erin pinked at the mention. “So I do.”


	4. But He's English, Gerry!

For a whole week, things did not get better. The walk to and from school remained frigid, not only from the temperatures, but Michelle’s continued anger at Erin and James. She didn’t go so far as to avoid walking with them, only to walk ahead of the group and refuse any attempts at conversation. As expected, everyone was handling this splendidly-- Clare had taken to bursts of unintelligible ranting about the importance of friendship, Orla had dove headfirst into her step routines, and Erin noticed her mouth perpetually twisted into an expression like a sour lemon. No one was doing their best.

Except, James, that is. In Erin’s opinion. Not giving a flying fuck what Michelle thought of her relationship with James, she had continued to spend many interesting hours with him behind the chippy, in the library stacks, and most importantly, in her bedroom. What skills she had originally labelled as cracker were only skimming the surface of his talents, but what really delighted Erin was how very kind and thoughtful he continued to be. She knew from Michelle’s previously divulged experience with lads that after a while they tended to go cold for all that mushy stuff, but to her surprise, James had become even more affectionate. She frequently caught him twirling a piece of her hair around his finger and, on no less than two occasions, given her his jumper to wear when she got cold. From the outside, Erin was sure he looked like a puppy, soft hair and soft eyes, but she was utterly charmed.

James Macguire was charming. And she was powerless to that sweet dopey grin of this. Which is how, for the second time in as many weeks, Erin ended up in a position she could have not predicted. Rather, she should have predicted it at this point, seeing as they had been equally careful and careless in their secret-keeping.

After school on a Thursday afternoon, Erin and James were holed up in her bedroom “studying”, but there was nothing academic about it. Sure, their textbooks and notes were open to the appropriate page, and the afternoon had started with a recap of  _ The Picture of Dorian Grey _ , but one grin from James had sent her launching over their notes and onto his lap. Now the pages lay forgotten across the floor from them, while each were doing a studying of a different sort.

In her cheekiest retort, Erin would say that she was studying the number of freckles on James’ chest, which were infinite, and he the smell of the newest body spray on her neck. That’s what Erin would say of him. James would never reply so forwardly, but he was enjoying parsing the distinct smell of Erin Quinn-- she had a dusty, library quality he attributed to the newspaper office that was undercut with the sharpness of citrus, and he felt like he could lick every inch of her to taste it. Not that he had yet. He was plenty satisfied with his hands up her shirt and her legs bracketing his hips, lips and breath mingling in perfect satisfaction.

“Blimey, you’re amazing,” he exhaled as she carded her fingers through his soft curls, and Erin pinked at the compliment. James was always saying such kind things to her-- how pretty she looked, how smart she was, how wonderful she felt-- that she had become much less self-conscious and awkward in her own skin. It didn’t matter if some people thought she was weird. James would tell her she was amazing.

“Aye, and she’s got some explaining to do,” said a voice in the doorway, and the pair froze. With an expression of abject horror, Erin turned to find her Ma standing, laundry hamper in her arms and brow furrowed. “Now get up.”

“Mrs. Quinn--” James started, but she held up her hand. He meekly fell silent.

“Both of you, downstairs. Erin, your Da will have something to say.”

Erin whined, “But Mammy!”

“Now! Gerry!”

Ma was the ruler of this house, but though she ruled it with an iron fist, she so rarely had to raise her voice to get things done-- an arched brow and sharp wording usually got the job done. With this furious version in full display, Erin and James did as they were told and scrambled to their feet, straightening their school clothes and shuffling downstairs. If her Ma could be this spitting mad, who knows what her affable Da would be like.

“I’m sorry,” James whispered to her as they walked. Erin reached behind herself to take his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“‘S alright. You’re irresistible, aren’t you?” she teased back quietly. She got a snort in reply.

“Aunt Mary, have you seen my athletic shorts?” Orla had appeared down the hall, fully neon except for a standard issue school skirt.

“Not now, Orla, dear,” Ma replied. “I’m dealing with Erin and James. Check the laundry if you must.”

Orla scampered down the stairs past them and out the back door, presumably to search the clothesline for her elusive shorts, but all Erin could think was that all the girls would know that her Ma had caught her and James. She’d never hear the end of it from Michelle now. Today had taken such a terrible turn. It had started so well, she thought, remembering James’ kiss good morning, his sweet grin mixing with the earthy taste of beans on toast.

When they reached the living room, Erin was confronted with her Da’s matching furrowed brow. 

Gerry Quinn was overall a gentle man. For all the jokes made at his expense for being the cozier, contemplative half of his marriage, Gerry liked his soft edges and comfy chairs. He liked being the one that Erin would run to when things were horrible, because he got to wrap her in a hug and tell her everything would be okay. Granted, that had happened less and less as of late as Erin became a full-fledged teenager, but he liked the role he played in the house of protector, supporter, listener. And he hated when Mary tried to force him to be anything else. Like now.

“They were in her room, Gerry,” she exclaimed. “His hands were up her shirt. Do something!”

“Aye, and what would you like me to do about it?” Just because Mary wanted him to be a disciplinarian didn’t mean he had to agree to it. Winding her up was just more fun.

Mary Quinn huffed in greatest tribulation. He never volunteered to share the judicial responsibilities of parenting. She was always the hammer in their pair. She was naturally tougher, she supposed, but it was hard to always be the abrasive one.

“Forbid her to see him! Ground her for a week! Lecture her on proper behavior and how terrible lads can be at this age! Something!”

That made Gerry chuckle, which only served to further exasperate her.

“Find something funny?”

“He’s not terrible, Mary,” Erin’s Da replied. “Just yesterday you said yourself he was a proper lad, helping with the dishes after supper.”

Ma sputtered. “Aye, but that was before I knew he was messing about with our daughter.”

“Would you rather she mess about with some other boy? One who doesn’t offer to wash the dishes?”

“But he’s English, Gerry!”

Erin was about to step in and defend James’ honor, such as it was, when her Da got a wicked grin on his face. He flashed a smile at her that told her to wait. He had this match in the bag.

“Aye, and I’m Southern. Didn’t stop you from messing about with me,” Da laughed, and Ma turned bright red.

“That was absolutely different. She’s only sixteen. We were--”

“--Seventeen? Big difference, that.” Her Da wrapped his arms around her Ma’s shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t be cross, Mary. She was bound to find some lad sooner or later. Might as well be a lad you already approve of.”

“She’s too young,” Mary answered quietly, showing the slightest uncertainty. Erin so rarely saw her Ma waver. “What if he’s not good for her?”

“Ma--” Erin started, but her Da motioned her to stop. She could tell he was on her side, if she would let him work, but her outspoken personality was hard to resist.

“Really?” he asked lightly. “A quiet Southern boy who likes to listen to the brash self-sure Derry Quinn girl? That’s no good? Catch yourself on.”

He was teasing her Ma, Erin realized. Her world was so full of harsh edges and dangerous turns that she rarely saw their softness. It was always them against the world, a united front, but it was moments like this that gave her a glimpse into what they must have been like before the world got so hard.

James squeezed her hand, and Erin smiled back at him. Maybe this is how her parents felt with each other--soft and cozy, like tea or wool jumpers.

After a moment Mary sighed. “I suppose.”

Her Da grinned at her like this was victory.

“What?” Erin asked, confused.

“I can’t stop you from messing about. You can see the wee fella. James,” Mary conceded, and Erin more tightly gripped James’ hand. “But the door stays open from now on. And you’re not to let your marks fall.”

“Thank you Mammy,” Erin squeaked, throwing her arms around both her parents. She backed away after a moment and returned to holding James’ hand, now wrapping her other hand around his bicep, holding on to him for dear life. Looking up at his face she saw a grin to match hers on his face, eyes glinting in the remains of the afternoon light. Everything was going to be alright, she supposed. She had her family, her girls, and James.

Like a breaking dam, the front door burst open, and three girls tumbled inside. Michelle was in the lead, with Claire and Orla flanking on either side. Before anyone could greet her, Michelle spoke in the same tone used with the dickos at the bus stop.

“What have you been saying about my wee cousin?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the read! Let me know what you think :)


	5. No One Mucks With My Cousin But Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the patience. I know it's been an age. Here's the final chapter!
> 
> As always, just a wee American. Be kind.

“What have you been saying about my wee cousin?”

Michelle Mallon was a force of nature. The day that Dennis tried to replace Salt & Vinegar Taytos in the shop with the far inferior Prawn Cocktail flavor was a day that will live in infamy, and the afternoon Michelle found out Michael Lonergan tried to snog her and Cathy Fallon in the same hour resulted in a dressing-down the likes of which Derry had never seen before or since.  Come hell or high water, nothing could move her an inch if she didn’t want to, and woe betide you if you ended up in her path.

“James is a class fella, Mrs. Quinn. He’s good enough for Erin. If anything, he’s too good for her,” Michelle continued, advancing on Ma into the living room.

“Watch yourself, Michelle,” Ma warned.

Erin tried to interrupt, “But Michelle--”

“I’ll get to you in a minute,” Michelle snapped, returning to Erin’s Ma. “James is a good fella, and he’s been in Derry so long he’s not even  _ that _ English anymore! Yesterday he used ‘craic’ correctly, and didn’t even stutter. He tried dinner from the chippy last Friday. Aye, he got a bit sick on account of the grease, but the point is he ate it. He’s basically a Derry lad, born and bred, excepting he’s not a dicko like the rest of the Christian Brother boys. You’re right lucky he likes Erin, especially on account of her weird laugh and flat hair--”

“Michelle!” Erin asserted, louder this time. “Shut it!”

“It’s true, Erin, your laugh’s all teeth, so it is,” Orla noted, but Michelle waved her off.

“The point is, James is my cousin, and no one mucks with my cousin but me,” Michelle declared, rising to her full height with emphasis. 

Erin was a little bit touched, to be honest. Coming from Michelle, that was practically a declaration of deepest affection. When it came to sweeter emotions, she was terrible. Even with her friends and family, her love was never soft, always fierce. It was fierce now, as she stated her half-love, half-protection for James, and Erin hated to interrupt it, but there wasn’t a reason for Michelle to keep carrying on like this.

“Aye, Michelle, no one is. My folks already said it was alright for me to see James,” Erin told her, finally able to get a word in edgewise. James nodded in agreement, trying to get Michelle to calm down, or at the very least, stop shouting.

“They what? Then why’d you let me carry on like that? Saying all those things about James, I’m proper broke about it.”

“You didn’t give us a chance to explain.”

“So your Ma really found you and James in your room about to ride and she’s okay with it?”

“About to-- no we weren’t!” Erin exclaimed, putting her hand over her eyes in frustration. Clare’s eyes had grown big a saucers and her Ma had her mouth flat open, like she was ready to swallow a pasty whole. She couldn’t even look back at her Da. He gets purple at the mention of people’s knickers, so she could hardly imagine the color he turned at the mention of his only daughter riding a fella. “Christ, Michelle, we were just snogging.”

“Just snogging?” James murmured into her ear from behind her, and Erin flushed.

“Shut it, you,” she whispered back. “You’re going to make it worse again.”

“Just snogging?” Michele asked, then quickly turned to her right. “Orla!”

“They were pulling on jumpers when they left her room and Aunt Mary looked ready to kill James,” Orla explained, not even having the decency to sound sorry for getting it wrong. This was just like when she stole Erin’s diary all over again. Erin would never forgive her. Unless--

“Wait, you’re not mad at James and me anymore?”

Michelle’s bravado dropped slightly, her expression becoming the closest Michelle Mallon gets to sheepish. “Aye, I am, but you’re my friends. I don’t want you to not be happy. And you eejits make each other happy. You’ve been buzzing just holding hands on the way to school. It’s… it’s okay, I guess.”

That was the closest Michelle got to sorry, and Erin knew it. It was sweet, in her way. Erin threw herself at the tall girl, wrapping her in a hug around the middle.

“Thanks, Michelle. That’s class of you,” she told her, and Erin felt Michelle’s arms close around her back. After a moment, Michelle pushed her back a step.

“But you can never let me walk in on you two again.”

Erin laughed, going back to take James’ hand behind her. “Done.”

“Well, come on, then. Orla interrupted me in the middle of getting crisps from Dennis’. I’m starved,” Michelle said, turning on her heel out the front door, leaving Orla and Clare to scurry behind.

Erin looked at her parents. Thankfully her da was just a little red, and her ma looked more skeptical than mad.

“We’re gonna… go?” Erin told them, though the turn up at the end of her sentence made sure it sounded like a question.

Ma sighed. “Aye, you can go. Be back for supper, mind.”

“Yes, Mammy!” Erin called over her shoulder, already dragging James out the door. 

She truly intended to run down the road to catch up with the girls, chattering about everything they’d missed while they were cross with each other, but she only got down her steps before James stopped. He pulled her left around the corner of her house and pressed her against the wall, right under the spot that used to have the spray painted flag and rifles. It had taken Da most of a weekend to get it off the side, but now it was back to rights, the plain, clean grey and red brick it’d always been. Which was convenient, as Erin was in her school uniform and smashed against the wall, and her Ma would be ripping if she got paint or something on her blazer.

The moment after he pushed her against the wall with his hands on her hips, James’ mouth collided with hers head-on, hard and insistent. On instinct Erin’s hands flew to his face, framing his cheeks and sliding her fingers up into his curls. They made no noise except breathy sighs and the sloppy slap of repeated kisses for several minutes, James’ body inching closer and closer until his whole torso was pressing her into the wall. 

A moment later he started trailing down her neck toward the pulse point behind her ear that always made her moan, and without his mouth occupying hers, Erin was unable to stop the soft whines at each kiss. Her whole body yearned for it, and James was being a tease.

“Now… there’s… no… hiding,” he said, punctuating each word with a suck on her neck. His hands were basically holding her up at this point, as her knees had stopped being able to support any weight. “I can kiss you whenever I like.”

“Aye,” Erin replied, less a word and more a sigh. Her skin would look like one of her ma’s pies by the end of this, splotchy and red from his attentions. “But maybe not in front of my folks, though, right?”

“Just a little kiss?” he asked, demonstrating with a quick peck to her lips, the most chaste they’d ever been.

“No, cause when you kiss like that all I can think of is this,” she answered, connecting with his lips again with sloppy abandon. She would be self-concious of her abilities were it not for the bulge pressing against her hip, growing more insistent as she kissed him.

“Okay, no snogging in front of your parents,” James agreed breathlessly once she paused, before his lips took hold of her neck again. “But otherwise, you’re mine.”

Erin’s heart jumped in her chest and she could feel a flood in her knickers. He only got this way with her. With everyone else, he was soft and meek, and oftentimes he was with her too, but sometimes,  _ this _ James made an appearance. He became strong and posessive, holding her tight and kissing her fast. He finished what she could feel would be a truly impressive hickey, and returned his attentions to her puffy mouth. She ground her thighs together a bit. Christ, she was in trouble.

“Yours,” Erin breathed in between kisses.

“Christ, we just talked about this,” Michelle yelled from the street, and Erin pushed him back a step. The girls must have turned around when they didn’t join them, and now got an eyefull again.

“Michelle--” James started.

“I don’t mind you riding my friend, James, I mind you doing it where I can see.”

“But we weren’t--”

“Aye, but in a few minutes you would be. She’s a class girl, James. She’s not going to ride you in the street, even if she is desperate.”

Erin grinned at James. They might as well go along. Michelle could get right pissed if no one listened to her.

“Later,” she told him, swiping her thumb across his mouth to remove a stray swipe of lip gloss.

“Later,” he promised.

“Eejits! Let’s go!” Michelle hollered, already walking away again.

So Erin and James took hands and walked out of the Quinn yard, following the musings of Orla and arguments of Michelle and Clare down the road. This is how it was meant to be, she supposed. There was no world in which she could have imagined these circumstances --dating James, and hanging with her friends, totally normal-like-- but now that she was here it made complete sense. They were meant to be a happy little unit, a pack who protected each other and fought the world together, and now that everything had sorted itself they could be that again.

But looking up at James and seeing him smiling back at her with a matching lopsided grin, Erin knew she was wrong. It wasn’t what she could have predicted at all. It was better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and Review <3


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